Clark review: Bill Skarsgård is electric in this anarchic thrill ride

Olofsson is a Swedish criminal, who over the course of his life has been convicted of attempted murder, assault, robbery, and dealing narcotics. Particularly prone to robbing banks, Olofsson gained notoriety during the Norrmalmstorg robbery, the events of which inspired the term 'Stockholm Syndrome' due to the attachment the hostages felt towards him and his fellow robber.

However, this isn't a series about Norrmalmstorg. In fact, it's not until the end of episode three that we see that particular event recreated. Instead, it's a series about everything that Olofsson did throughout his criminal past – and he sure got around.

With more prison breaks, love affairs and robberies than you can count, the series moves at a break-neck speed as Clark charms his way through a life in which only he matters. Everyone else is collateral damage as he embarks on a criminal career much like an actor does a film career: moving from job to job, gaining celebrity and making sure to stay in the limelight for fear of losing relevance.

For Clark, this isn't about the money or power, it's about his own ego. At one point he tells his fellow bank robber he shouldn't cover his face because then nobody will know it's him. He'd be failing to build up his CV.

The series' ridiculous and crude opening sequence is a real statement of intent: we find Clark narrating as the camera enters his mother's womb and finds baby Clark inside, with Skarsgard's face superimposed on to him. He tells us that this is to be his first escape.

It's hugely tongue-in-cheek, much like the rest of the show, which is certainly not afraid to go weird, and go big. In fact, you feel it might be afraid to go small, with everything from the anarchic pacing, to the raucous sex scenes, to the deranged fantasy sequences all dialled up to 11. Even the episode titles are overblown – episode 1 is called "Being the Best at Being the Best Was Not My Thing, So I Decided to Be the Best at Being the Worst".

It's director Jonas Åkerlund all over and it won't be for everyone – far from it – but if you're willing to go with this show's absurdity and grandiosity as a reflection of Clark's own exuberance and sense of self-worth, it's an incredibly fun ride.

Of course, to pull off what is essentially a pinball machine of a series, you need a versatile, energetic and frankly indefatigable lead. And while the supporting cast all put in great work, this show belongs to Bill Skarsgård.

It's a tour-de-force acting showcase for the Pennywise actor, who brims with charisma as the morally bankrupt yet still somehow likeable Clark. He's charming, goofy, volatile, obnoxious, arrogant, petulant, magnetic, all at once, and it's really something to behold. It's a six-hour performance that you won't be able to take your eyes off.

We witness Clark change and grow, yet also regress over time, as the series charts several decades. The first five episodes are close to pure fantasy while the finale starts to bring things, ever so slightly, down to Earth.

In the sixth episode we see an ageing Clark grapple with his life and the role he's played in the lives of others in a manner his solipsism has never allowed him to before. As his biographer attempts to unpick his destructive behaviour, the pace slows and some of the sheen comes off. Where Clark's violence and self-serving nature were once played for laughs, here they become a whole lot more frightening and real.

For some viewers, this decision to confront the myth-making and glamorisation of Clark's actions will come all too late, acting as a post-script where it should have been the whole point. For others, it will be an unwelcome interruption in a fast-paced and heightened crime saga.

There's no denying that it's somewhat jarring, and can feel as though its blaming the audience for enjoying what they just watched. In fact, it's in exploring beneath the surface that Clark occasionally falters throughout, with the only real rationale given for his behaviour being that he had an abusive father and was separated from his mother at a young age, something we learn very early on and yet is never wholly examined.

When Clark actually does confront this realisation, Skarsgård gives it all he's got and it's moving – it just doesn't really last. A self-reflexive version of Clark isn't the one that Åkerlund's interested in, and truthfully, it might not be one that actually exists.

No matter the emotional drawbacks, Clark is a fully engaging and binge-worthy series. Like its central character, the show is fully committed to being utterly unhinged, meaning it may not have a whole lot of substance when it comes to analysing Clark's worldview and behaviour. But if you're up for just letting the insanity wash over you, Clark is a hell of a good time.

Clark will stream on Netflix from 5th May 2022. Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide to see what's on tonight.

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